


Goodbye Is Never Easy

by CassieSalvatore_Hale



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Mentioned Lilith, Might Add More, Potentially really sad, Sort of a Soulmate fic, Stiles Stilinski's Name is Mieczysław, mentioned Lucifer, soulmate mark, unlikely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 19:14:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13530807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassieSalvatore_Hale/pseuds/CassieSalvatore_Hale
Summary: Rosa really hadn't expected for things to go so horrible. Just a short time ago, things had been so...wonderful. She and Stiles had kissed and it had made both of their hearts race. But...it'd just been a distraction. And boy if THAT didn't hurt. The thought that it'd all been an act caused her heart to lurch in pain, and she briefly looked up, looking past the Winchester brothers, trying to see Stiles. She caught his gaze but the moment she did, Derek stepped in front of him, eyes glowing red. She broke contact almost immediately, looking back down at the trap she was standing in. She could easily ignore the words that were coming from Sam and Dean's mouths. They hurt, but she didn't think anything could hurt more than her heart did. Except...for the mark, burning on her wrist, hidden from all eyes.





	Goodbye Is Never Easy

Hello. My name is Rosetta Daniels, though most people call me Rosa for short. I'm 17 years old, almost 18, and I've lived in Beacon Hills since I was a toddler. My mom died when I was 2, shortly after she and my father seperated. After my mom died, my dad moved my older brother and me to Beacon Hills. When I was 7, my brother was hit by a car and he died on the way to the hospital. All that's left is my dad. Technically, I have a lot of relatives, from both sides of the family, but my dad is the only one I talk to. I...have a secret. One that not even my dad knows. I think he'd freak out if he found out. I'm...not really his daughter. You see, when I was 6 months old, I somehow got onto the kitchen table and I fell from it. I hit my head and my mom and dad rushed me to the hospital. The doctors said it was a miracle that I survived, that I didn't appear to have any injuries. My mom was supposed to be watching me when it happened and my dad never really got over it, even though I was supposedly fine which is why they split a year and a half later.

Thing is, I wasn't fine. I didn't actually make it. 'I' died and the real me took over the body. I'm not normal, I'm not even human. I'm a demon. I'm a really  _really_ old demon. I'm so old, in fact, that I'm the second demon ever made, having been made shortly after Lilith was made. Like her, I was 'created' by our 'father' Lucifer. I'm different than Lilith though. Lilith is the final seal of the 66 seals to the cage but...I'm stronger. I'm younger but I'm stronger than her. She hated me for it. She hated that our father made me stronger, more powerful...But, that doesn't matter right now.

Oh...and one more thing. Stiles...is my soulmate. I know because...his name is written on my wrist. And not Stiles Stilinski... _Mieczysław Stilinski_. Took me a long time to figure out that it was Stiles' name...no one knows. I've had it since I was human and every single person I've ever possessed has it written into their skin, and the mark disappears when I leave the body. Demons aren't supposed to have soulmarks. They usually disappear when you go to Hell...mine didn't.

* * *

 

My head throbs painfully before I feel my healing kickstart. I try to remember what happened, but the last thing I remember is kissing Stiles before something heavy hit the back of my head. I groan at the throbbing pain, bringing a hand to the back of my head. It comes away dark with blood and I realize my vision is slightly blurry. A moment later, my vision clears thanks to my healing and I pull myself to hands and knees, realizing the ground beneath me is hard, cold, and dusty. I groan again as I catch sight of something red and feel my stomach drop in panic.

I slowly stand up, staring down at what I'm standing in, my heartbeat picking up and my breathing catching in my throat. My senses kick in and I notice five souls in the room and an angel outside of the... _warehouse?_ I'm standing in a devil's trap and the five souls I sense makes my stomach  _twist_. I look up, my eyes flickering from each person to the next. Dean, Sam, Peter, Derek, and...Stiles. I force my breathing to calm down, not letting my panic show in my eyes, though I can't control my heartbeat at the moment.

"I'm surprised the pack isn't here. I would've thought you guys would want them to know...to see" My voice is slightly hoarse from the panic coursing through me.

"So it's true then? You're not even going to try to deny it?" Sam's voice is skeptical.

"What's the point? Two out of the five people here can  _smell_ the panic I'm feeling, you and Dean can read almost anyone like an open book and...I don't want to deny it" I say, my voice not has hoarse as before, but still kind of rough.

"What did you do to Rosa?" Derek's voice is like a whip and I can't help but flinch. He's my  _Alpha_ even if I'm not a werewolf, and hearing him speak like that to me  _hurts_.

"I didn't  _do_ anything to Rosa, I  _am_ Rosa," I say. Dean snorts.

"Didn't you just say you weren't going to deny it?" Dean asks, venom in his voice. He  _hates_ demons and I know he does.

"I'm not denying what I am Dean. I'm simply trying to explain that I _am_ Rosa, but I forgot that when confronted with anything other than a _human_ , no one around here gives anyone a chance to explain anything!" I can't help the anger that fills my voice when I speak. "And this is  _exactly_ why I kept this from everyone! Because somehow I managed to surround myself with a bunch of people who  _shoot first_ and ask questions _later_. Because you don't  _care_ what a  _monster_ " the word is spoken like it's acid in my mouth "has to say!"

I am panting from my outburst. I've always been quick to anger and becoming a demon only heightened my anger. Sam opens his mouth as if to defend them, or maybe just himself, but I stare at him, my expression almost cold. I had kept this bottled up for too long. "Are you going to try and defend yourself, Sam? Because if you are,  _don't._ There was a time when you  _tried_ to talk things out. But it's been  _years_ since you did that" I suddenly look at Derek and Peter.

"And  _you._ _You_ , Peter,  _never_ asked. You just killed whatever you pleased if it appeared to pose the slightest threat. And  _you,_ Derek, you barely give anything a chance to  _speak_. You tried to kill Jackson-not that I'm defending him because I hate him and  _everyone_ knows this-because he was killing people but before that, you were willing to kill  _Lydia_ simply because you thought she was the Kanima! The only person in this entire fucking town who gives anyone a chance to talk IS THE IDIOT NAMED SCOTT MCCALL!" My voice raises to a shout and it echoes off the walls.

I am panting heavily with anger and if I wasn't in a devil's trap, I know that some of the things in the warehouse would've shattered from loss of control. The five people in the room are staring at me. I can feel that my eyes are white but I can't control it because I've bottled up these feelings for  _years_ and I can't take it anymore.

"Well...that sounded distinctly like you've kept that bottled up for a long time. How long have you inhabited her?" Peter's voice is curious, and he doesn't even seem remotely insulted by what I said. I groan loudly.

"Out of all that I said, you want to know how long I've been in this body? ARE YOU F-" I cut myself off before I can properly start shouting again, pinching the bridge of my nose and closing my eyes, counting to 10 twice before opening my eyes. I know they are back to their normal blue. "I've been in this body since it was 6 months old. Rosetta Daniels, the  _real_ Rosetta, died. I told you guys about the miracle fall I survived when I was 6 months old? I fell off the kitchen table when my mom was watching me? It's what split my parents up?" The people in the room nod, except for Peter, who hasn't heard of this.

"Well, 'I' didn't survive. I'd been watching for a while because Rosa was an interesting baby, the daughter of a hunter and a warlock. It was funny watching them try to cope with her growing powers. Even at 6 months old, she was strong...It's how she got onto the table that was at least 4 feet up. She teleported...But once up, she lost her balance and she fell. Hit her head on the floor. Her mom heard the  _thud_ of her hitting the floor and rushed her to the hospital...where she died" My voice suddenly changes to puzzled.

"I...I'm not sure why, but seeing her mother freak out...seeing her panic...I wanted to help. But Rosa was already gone, even if her mother didn't know it yet...so I did the only thing I could think of just short of making myself known and telling her to make a deal...I 'possessed' the body. Not really possession if you aren't taking over a host...it was weird. I'd possessed people before but...you always have that person there. A soul in the back of your mind, most of the time trying to fight it's way back to the front. It was...empty. My healing fixed the body and by the time we were at the hospital, I was fine...But it caused a rift between my mom and dad..." I stare down at my feet, my voice soft when I finish, but I know they can hear me. For a moment, no one speaks.

"Why _exactly_ should we believe you?" Dean's voice rings with authority and suspicion. I sigh, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, out of my face.

"I've given you no reason to believe me, so in all honesty, you  _shouldn't_ believe me. I don't expect any of you to believe me. I expect this to be a long night filled with exorcisms that don't work and probably bullets when those fails. Maybe that fancy knife you've got, not that any of it'll work" I say, looking up at Dean. He's scowling at me. Sam looks confused.

"How do you know it won't work? We haven't tried it on you yet" Sam asks. I can't help but snort.

"Oh, I know. First, I've had many exorcisms performed on me. They never work. Second, I've been shot before, even by the colt, and for... _some_ reason, that doesn't work either. Now, while I haven't been stabbed by that fancy demon knife Ruby gave you, I have a distinct feeling it's not going to help you either. See, I'm not like all the other demons. I'm old, Sam. Very old. I'm so old that you cannot comprehend it. And that's not an insult, by the way. Human...er no, two of you aren't human, mortal, as in mortal vs immortal, not mortal as in human, minds are incapable of comprehending vast amounts of time due to how short their lives are. So if I told you how old I really was, I literally mean you wouldn't understand. I'm the second demon ever made and I technically outrank Lilith, not taking into account the fact that she's dead. The only person to outrank me is, of course, Lucifer, as he is the one who made me." I briefly look up at the people in the room before looking back down.

"I'm...different. I don't know how, and I don't know why. But being a few years younger than Lilith doesn't change the fact that I was stronger than her, more powerful than her" I suddenly laugh, and it's a dark sound "She loathed me. Lucifer liked me more than her because of my power and strength. Lilith loathed me for that. She loved Lucifer, as much as a demon could love. She was downright obsessed with our Creator. And she loathed me with every fiber of her being for the attention my power gave me. When Lucifer was thrown into the Cage, I gave Hell to Lilith, let her be Queen, and I left. Shortly after, Hell was sealed, the gates closed...I was left alone on Earth for a time before others figured out a way to crawl out"

Suddenly, Dean is talking, saying something about hearing enough of the 'bullshit' coming from my mouth. Sam says a few things here and there. Their words sting. I sigh so quietly that even the werewolves in the room don't hear me.  _How did this go so...wrong?_ I think, staring down at the trap. I can easily escape the trap, but I see no reason to. It won't help me.  _Just an hour ago, if my sense of time is right, things had been so...wonderful_ I could still feel Stiles' lips on mine.  _I've wanted that for months and I finally_ had  _it. But...it was a distraction, wasn't it? I'm here, in a warehouse just on the outskirts of Beacon Hills, with Sam, Dean, Derek, Peter, and Stiles in front of me and_ someone _had to have hit me in the back of the head. My money is on Peter. But was it planned? It...it feels like it was..._ I feel my heart lurch in pain at that.

I can still hear Sam and Dean talking, spewing words that...hurt. But they are easy to ignore.  _I want to see him...I need to know_ I suddenly look up, looking past Sam and Dean. I look at Stiles and for the briefest moment, I am able to stare into his whiskey-colored eyes. But then Derek is pushing him back and standing in front of him, breaking the eye contact. Derek's eyes are glowing red and it's a warning. I can't help but flinch, looking back down at the trap.  _It was just an act. He doesn't care about me...It was a distraction, just an act..._  My breath hitches as I feel my heart lurch in pain again, my throat tightening almost painfully and I suddenly smell salt. Something wet falls to the floor and I stare at it before reaching up and touching my cheek. It's wet and I suddenly realize that the tightness in my throat is because I'm  _crying._ The realization is like a dam breaking and a sob wrenches its way out of me. Sam and Dean aren't talking anymore but I don't really notice because of the  _pain_ I feel. I haven't felt emotion this strong in so long and it causes my knees to buckle.

I fall to my hands and knees, my breath hitching with sobs as I cry,  _hard_.  _This is it. It doesn't matter what happens after this, even if they let me go. I've lost him, I've lost my place in the pack!_ Panic fills me and my sobs become almost hysterical as I cry harder, wrapping my arms around myself and sitting back on my heels, my legs curled under me as I cry hard, almost rocking with the force of the sobs ripping out of me.  _I've lost my pack, I've lost_ Stiles,  _I've lost everything and there is no getting it back._ My wrist burns but it's not the same warmth that I felt when Stiles and I kissed, it's much  _worse_ because now it's a cold burn, it's like frostbite, not that I can get it, and my heart hurts just as much.  _I don't want to lose him, please, I can't lose him, it took so long to_ find  _him, please!_   _Please! I can't lose him..._ I choke on a sob and before I can do anything, I'm hunched over and coughing/dry-heaving. When I finally stop, I nearly collapse onto my side, almost silent now other than the hitching of my breath. Tears are still falling freely from my eyes.  _Please..._

"Please  _what_?" Peter hisses. I look up at him in shock and my voice is hoarse from crying.

"W-what?" I manage to speak but I cough almost immediately after I force the word out.

"You've been muttering  _'Please'_ and  _'I can't lose him'_ since you began crying" Sam's voice is confused and, though he tries to hide it, tinged with worry. Dean and even Derek are worried as well. I think it's because I suddenly started crying. I still can't see Stiles. A shudder wracks my body, my breath hitching painfully in my throat. I look up at Dean and Sam, feeling more vulnerable than I've ever felt in my existence. My fingers twitch and before I fully realize what I'm doing, the left sleeve of my long sleeve shirt is being yanked up by my shaking fingers. I rip off the black band that is always,  _always_ on my wrist. An almost stifling power suddenly fills the room. The black band regulates my powers but also hides the _mark_. I barely register Derek's subtle flinch or the way Peter steps back as I hold out my left wrist so the black scrawl is visible. Dean hesitates, not being able to read it from where he stands. He and Sam slowly edge closer until they can read what is written nicely, but a little spastically, on my wrist. My eyes are dry now, somehow.

"What the fuck is  _My-ek-zi-slaw_?" Dean's voice is confused and aggravated from trying to pronounce the Slavic name of Polish origins. Sam sighs heavily.

"It's not pronounced Myekzislaw, Dean, it's  _Mieczysław_ ," Sam says, the name somehow falling flawlessly from his lips. Stiles is suddenly right behind them.

"Let me see! Derek, let me  _go_ " There is a tone in his voice, there must be, because Derek lets go of his shoulder, letting Stiles push past Dean and Sam, even closer than they are. He stares at the nice, but spastic, words on my wrist, my breath hitching painfully again.  _Mieczysław Stilinski_ stares back at him and Stiles slowly lifts his eyes from his  _name_ to my eyes. I flinch, looking down as my wrist drops. "Does it belong to you? Or...her?" Stiles' voice is strained and my shoulders hunch.

"M-me...I-I don't expect you to believe me, this is...i-t's too big..." My breath hitches and tears sting my eyes once more "E-very body I've ever been in bares the mark...i-t's my mark. D-Demon's aren't supposed to have soulmarks. Th-ey usually disappear when you g-o to H-ell" My breath continues to hitch as I speak, interrupting my words at random intervals. "M-ine didn't. I don't k-now why. I-I keep it hidden with the bla-black band. If any-one questions it, I t-ell them it regul-ates my power. It's n-not a lie since I h-ave a lot of power and sometimes I can't con-trol it" I can feel their eyes on me, but I can mostly feel  _Stiles'_ eyes on me. Those beautiful,  _beautiful_ whiskey-colored eyes. I want to look up, I want to see them, but I can't. I don't want to see what's  _in_ them. With the black band off, my power swirls around the warehouse and I can tell it's making even Sam and Dean uncomfortable, but for whatever reason, Stiles doesn't seem affected by it. I try to draw it in, but it doesn't work as much as I want to, only making it easier for them to breathe. "S-orry" No one speaks.

I can't take it anymore and I start to draw the power to my hand, causing to heat. I slowly press it down onto the Devil's Trap, melting it. As soon as it breaks, the people in the room react, all of them jumping closer, except for Stiles, who is yanked back. I flinch violently at the sudden reaction, a whimper slipping out of my mouth before I can stop it, throwing my hands up and cowering, even though there is a part of me that whispers that they can't hurt me. When nothing happens, I slowly lower my hands and open my eyes, not having realized that I closed them. I can feel tears sliding down my cheeks again as my wrist gives a twinge. Dean, Sam, Peter, and Derek are surrounding me, but they all seem confused, even Peter. Dean is holding the demon knife, Sam has the colt. A part of me thinks it's odd, that it should be the other way around. Peter and Derek are wolfed out, eyes glowing, fangs sharp, claws out.

"Why haven't you fled yet?" It's Dean who speaks. He's clearly confused and trying to hide it with anger. I stare up at them for a moment before speaking, my voice so quiet it's a miracle Sam and Dean even hear me.

"Where would I go?" I look back down and for a moment, no one speaks. When I look back up, my eyes are purposely white and I look directly at Dean " _Please_ " My voice is broken. But Dean is confused again.

"Please what?" Sam asks.

"End it. Use the knife. There's the chance it might work, even if nothing else will.  _Please_ " I choke on tears and I can see Dean hesitating. I don't want him to hesitate, I want him to  _end it_. Before anyone can even think, I'm yanking the knife out of his hand. A sharp cry of ' _No!_ ' slips out of their mouths before i'm driving the knife into my chest. The pain is sharp, but nothing when compared to the pain in my wrist...Nothing happens. I let out a broken laugh, bordering on hysterical as I pull the knife out and toss it to the ground. "Of course! Of course, it doesn't work! Because my suffering isn't  _allowed_ to end so easily...Because I have to sit here while I lose everything" The hysterical laughter dies down, the hole in my chest from the knife automatically healing. I raise my head until I'm looking directly at Stiles, surprised that Peter and Derek are allowing it, but I'm pretty sure it's just from shock. "I'm  _so_ sorry Stiles. For all the lies. For everything. If there was a list of things I'd wanted to do, hurting you wouldn't be on it" My heart and stomach twist "I love you, Stiles. I know it's probably absurd to think of, a demon in love...but it's true. I realized I loved you a few months prior. Whatever happened before this, the...the  _kiss_ we shared...even if it didn't mean a damn thing to you, it meant the world to me" My breath hitches slightly but I force myself not to cry as I tear my gaze from Stiles, looking up at Peter and Derek "I...I'm going to miss the pack. I'm going to miss my place in the pack...but there is no recovering from this. I know that. And...I won't hide anymore. I  _can't_ hide my true self from them anymore...I'll miss you guys too..." I look over at Sam and Dean, smiling softly, though the smile wobbles at the edges "You guys were like my brothers. I want you to know that. I know I never told you but...I just had to...I'm going to miss you..." I slowly look back at Stiles, the white in my eyes fading until my eyes are blue again. I give Stiles a sad smile.

"Even if you don't believe anything I've said tonight...even if you question every word I've ever spoken to you...please believe me when I say that I love you, Stiles. You...you made me  _feel_ again, after so very long without real emotion. You and the pack...were my world. I'll make sure that no demons ever come to Beacon Hills...You won't have to worry about that" I look Stiles in the eyes, saving his whiskey-colored eyes to my memory... _It'll be the last time I ever see them after all..._ "Goodbye  _Mieczysław Stilinski_ " I disappear.


End file.
